When Angels Sin

35. A Brother's Kindness

Vilfred

It was well past midnight, but no one slept as the Northmen continued to celebrate their victory.

Vilfred looked blankly ahead of him as he sat at the main table with Lord Frederik, Lord Bernard, and the rest of the Northern lords. The table was filled with all sorts of the finest food and wine, but no one could touch anything.

"It is such a great loss indeed," the old Lord Hadrian said. "Mikal was the greatest man in Nordenland."

"We will never find another man like him," a young knight said.

"It is true," Vilfred said as he stood up. "Mikal was the greatest mind in Nordenland. We owe him our victory today, and even all our victories before, since the Kassarathi attack three years ago. It was none but his great plans that helped us achieve those victories again and again. Yet... all his plans would have been nothing without the men who actually fought the battles. My dear brother's death is a great loss indeed. I mourn him from the depths of my broken heart!" Vilfred paused for a moment, closing his eyes. 

"But, in our mourning, we must not forget all the great knights and soldiers who fought as well!" Vilfred opened his eyes, addressing the crowd with a look of encouragement. "Everyone who has been through today's battle, Lord or soldier, Northman or Eastern, dead or alive, should be equally praised." Vilfred raised his cup of wine. "To all those who fought today!"

The men raised their cups as well and cheered after him. Vilfred closed his eyes and sighed in sorrow as he sat back in his seat. He must do his best to show that he was deeply unsettled by his beloved brother's death, but he couldn't help his ire when he found that even after his death, Mikal was still the one getting all the praise. He couldn't stand how everyone kept saying his name and idolizing him, like he was some kind of god! He did understand that Mikal was an exceptional hero. The people adored him. Vilfred knew he could not expect everyone to forget all about Mikal that easily. But if only they knew his truth... It will pass. They will forget him. 

Back at the chamber arranged for him at Lord Frederik's quarters, Vilfred lay comfortably within a luxurious armchair that was cushioned with crimson velvet and filled with soft ostrich feathers. He passed his fingers over the gold engraved arms and smirked, before he raised another cup of wine to his lips. He was finally rid of Mikal! He had dreamt of this moment for a very long time. He had tried to have him killed once before, using that red haired whore, but he failed. 

It had been Vilfred who hired Daria to kill Mikal. It had been Vilfred all along. Yet he had no idea that Mikal would suspect Bernard. That day when Mikal had told him how Daria tried to kill him, Vilfred was shocked speechless as he thought that Mikal had discovered his scheme. But never had it crossed his mind that Mikal would so confidently and assuredly confide to him that it was Bernard who wanted him dead, and moreover ask him to find a way to kill him instead.

Vilfred could have never been more grateful for Mikal that day, for he had inspired him with a genius idea, and which little did Mikal know, Vilfred had devised for Mikal's own death and not Bernard's.

Brad, the assassin that Vilfred had hired to kill Bernard, was actually instructed to kill Mikal. During battle. So that no one would suspect anything.

Vilfred was finally rid of Mikal. It was all he had ever wanted. 

Ever since they were young boys, Vilfred had done all he could to play the big loving brother, but every day he was dying inside. No matter what he did, how hard he tried, he was never recognized, and Mikal took the credit for everything. He took everything! Even their parents' love. Yet Vilfred continued to support Mikal, in hopes that his parents would praise him. But they never did. They only ever praised Mikal.